the deft taunt of smoky wings floating the
aquamarine: its cloudy, bluey-green iris.
Here, down from the cliffs, where the water
treacherous-embracing glugs, hostaging rocks.
Dawn, dusk; inhale, exhale – breathing
light on this task immemorial: time’s
artistic etching of the details.
The accident of my back on this rock:
watching the rock pools dilate,
sensing the rise and fall of the diaphragm,
tabernacled in the vastness.